


You Were a Kindness

by bashert



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1206724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashert/pseuds/bashert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Come to lunch with me," Mac stated in a tone that didn't quite sound like a question. "My treat."</i>
</p><p>There are some things Mac feels she needs to apologize to Maggie for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were a Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> I'm, for whatever reason, more nervous about this story than I have about any other. And that's why it's been sitting in my documents folder for AGES. So. If you don't like it, don't tell me. Just let me believe otherwise. If you do like it, please reassure me. The title comes from the song by The National. Go on, read it then.

Maggie didn't hear MacKenzie come up behind her, and she jumped a mile when Mac tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to find Mac standing there, a small smirk on her face, her arms crossed, and her new diamond engagement ring catching the light and sending patterns onto Maggie's desk.

"Mac! Sorry! What can I do for you?" Maggie asked quickly.

"Come to lunch with me," Mac stated in a tone that didn't quite sound like a question. "My treat."

"That's really nice, but I have like a thousand and a half things to do," Maggie started.

" _Non-negotiable_ ," Mac cut her off. "Let's go." Maggie nodded a couple of times, wondering if Mac was taking her to lunch to fire her, or to reprimand her, or _something_. Maggie generally didn't think that bosses treated their subordinates to lunch just to fire them or demote them, or whatever, but Maggie once hid under a bed while her new boyfriend fucked his old girlfriend, so she tried not to rule out any possibilities.

Maggie grabbed her coat and followed Mac as she made her way through the bullpen, Mac catching Will's hand as he walked past.

"Want anything for lunch?" She asked, and Will looked from Maggie to Mac and raised an eyebrow in the direction of his fiancee, but shook his head.

"You ladies have fun though," he said, giving Mac's hand a squeeze and a look that Maggie couldn't quite decipher. Mac gave just the smallest nod of her head, and flashed a bright smile in Maggie's direction. Maggie offered her what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but she was afraid it had come out like a grimace. Judging by the eye roll she got from Mac in return, Maggie figured she fell short.

"Oh, for God's sake, you're acting like I'm taking you to face the execution squad and not to a _free_ lunch," Mac cried, exasperated, as she punched the elevator down button.

"Sorry," Maggie said sheepishly. "I just...wouldn't you rather go to lunch with Will? Or Sloan? Or Jim?" _Or anyone_ _else_ , Maggie silently added.

"No," Mac said firmly. "Look, I just thought we could talk."

"Talk? About what?" Maggie asked. The elevator arrived and Mac stepped inside, Maggie on her heels. The doors slid shut and Mac tilted her head thoughtfully.

"You and I are a lot more alike than I think you realize," Mac stated. "And you're more like Will than I think you realize as well." Maggie felt a flush of pride, and she ducked her head so that Mac wouldn't see the blush that was creeping up her neck and cheeks.

"Thank you, I don't know about that, but thank you," Maggie answered softly.

"You are," Mac's voice was firm and Maggie was saved from saying else as Mac stepped out into the lobby. She was also spared having to make small talk on the walk to the restaurant, as Mac's cell phone rang as soon as they stepped out onto the sidewalk and Mac mouthed an apology, and Maggie waved a hand, happy for the reprieve.

Mac finished up her call just as they arrived at the restaurant, and slid her phone back into her pocket and apologized again to Maggie.

"Sorry about that, it's incredibly rude," Mac said as they wove their way through the restaurant to their table.

"No, it's fine," Maggie insisted. There was a beat of silence, and then Mac leaned back, and Maggie was surprised to see guilt clearly defined on Mac's face.

"I need to apologize for more than that," Mac started, frowning slightly. "I need to apologize for a lot of things where you're concerned. You've been dealing with a lot this past year, and I've been too wrapped up in Genoa and my own problems, and that wasn't fair on you." Mac paused, and Maggie noticed that her hand was slightly trembling as she picked up her glass of water. "When the call came about what was happening in Uganda, I felt sick." Maggie wasn't quite sure what to say to that, and she wasn't sure if she needed to say anything at all. "I _sent_ you there; I should have...you were..."

"I knew that it was becoming more dangerous," Maggie blurted out, wanting more than anything to erase that sickened, guilty look from Mac's pale face. "There was a news alert that came in right after you okayed the trip. I _chose_ not to tell you about it. I wanted to go, Mac. I desperately wanted to go. That's not on you, that's on me."

"I made the final call, Maggie," Mac insisted. "But beyond that, when you came back, I knew you were having a hard time and I didn't..." Mac looked pained, and Maggie thought this was far worse than being fired or reprimanded.

"I didn't want your pity," Maggie dropped her voice as the waiter came to take their orders, and when Mac ordered a glass of wine, Maggie decided to follow suit. Maggie knew that she had had a problem with alcohol there for a little while, but she was in therapy now, at the behest of Mac, actually, and she was learning to work through the pain instead of numbing it. It had been Mac who had slipped the name and number of the therapist she saw onto Maggie's desk. A note in Mac's sprawling handwriting, _"It helps sometimes to talk. She helped me through a lot of things when I first arrived back in New York. I'll make the appointment, let me know."_

"It's not pity," Mac looked offended. "It's _not_."

"Plus, you _did_ help, you got me into therapy," Maggie pointed out. Mac began shaking her head vehemently.

"I slipped a fucking name and number on your desk," Mac argued. "That's not...Jesus, that's _nothing_."

"You called and got me an appointment," Maggie replied. "That's not nothing." Mac leaned forward in her seat and sucked in a deep breath. 

"I've been there," Mac said. "I didn't go through exactly what you had gone through, but I have my own demons that keep me awake sometimes at night, and I know what it's like to feel empty and lonely. The first few months back in the United States for me...well, they weren't good." Maggie thought back to what she said to Jim on Election night, _You and Mac are tough_. When Mac had first appeared in the newsroom, she had seemed so upbeat, resilient, nervous of course, but Maggie had figured those nerves had more to do with Will than anything else. Maggie would have never guessed that Mac was grasping at the edges, holding it all together with her fingertips. Maggie had fallen apart so publicly, so spectacularly, that it was astounding to her that anyone could do it so quietly.

"I wouldn't have guessed," Maggie said. "You always seemed so tough." Mac snorted.

"I'm not tough," Mac shook her head. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not so sure about tough. Stubborn. Pig-headed. Optimistic. Obtuse. Idiotic. Stunningly beautiful." She shot Maggie a cheeky grin, and Maggie was grateful for the break in the tense conversation. Then she sobered up slightly and her hand darted across the table and grabbed Maggie's. "I'm serious, Maggie. If you ever need to talk..." Mac let the offer hang in the air, and the waiter appeared with their glasses of wine and to take their order. Maggie took the break as an opportunity to take a long drink and get her thoughts in order.

Maggie knew that it was only when she had chopped off her hair that her bosses, well, honestly the whole newsroom, began to really worry about her. Mac had passed her the information about the therapist almost immediately on her arrival home, but it had been too early for Maggie to begin to process things, and then when everyone started to finally take notice, it had been too late. Maggie hadn't necessarily _blamed_ anyone, and certainly not Mac. It seemed that everyone had just assumed that Maggie (and Gary to a lesser degree) would be fucked up for a while, and then would eventually get over it, and by the time the realization had set in that Maggie _wasn't_ getting over it, Genoa was happening and shit was hitting the fan big time (and what, Maggie wondered, did that even mean? Why should she get over it? She had held a little boy while he _died_ , for _her_ , and as far as she was concerned that wasn't something that she should just _get over_ ).

Maggie glanced up and saw that Mac's eyes had widened and she suddenly realized that she had said all of that out loud.

_Shit_.

"I don't expect you to get over it," Mac said firmly. "That's a stupid fucking phrase and I've always thought so. That happened to you, and now it's a part of who you are, for better or for worse. The things that have happened to me? The things I saw, lived through, over while I was embedded? I've never _gotten_ over any of it. And I shouldn't. And you shouldn't either. What I meant, what I _mean_ , is that if you need to talk to someone to help you come to terms with what happened, absorb it, learn to _live_ with it, I'm here." Maggie didn't say anything right away. Mac was flushed, and she picked up her glass and drained it.

"Thank you," Maggie finally said.

"Please don't thank me," Mac insisted. "But, let's change the subject, I promised you this would not be as bad as an execution and so far I don't think I've delivered. As a reward, tell me, who would you rather hear dirt on first? Will or Jim? Because I have gold on _both_ of those fools."

* * *

"Will wants to see you," Tess told Maggie when she and Mac arrived back in the office. Maggie bit back a groan. She was as happy as anyone that they had gotten back together, but this united front thing was new, and already slightly annoying. She was getting tag-teamed, and she wasn't thrilled. She dropped her coat off at her desk and knocked lightly on Will's door, stepping in at the sound of his gruff, "Come in."

"You wanted to see me?" Maggie asked.

"So," Will asked. "How was lunch?"

"She wanted to apologize," Maggie said. "But you already knew that." Will nodded.

"She's like a dog with a fucking bone," he muttered, reaching for a cigarette. "But yeah, I knew she's been upset about it for a while." He glanced out the window. "She took it hard, what happened to you over there."

"I didn't know that," Maggie said.

"You couldn't," Will replied. "I was with her when the call came. It's not an experience I'd be willing to repeat." He shook his head, and then stubbed out his cigarette. "But she's serious, any time you need, well, _anything_ , just let us know." Maggie remembered Mac saying over and over again how Will was actually a softy, and while there was evidence to suggest Mac was right, there was also evidence (and Mac's own suggestion) that Will was a douchebag. But he looked so sincere, and yeah, uncomfortable, that Maggie couldn't help but bite her lip to stop the stupid smile that was tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah, okay," she said.

"Okay," Will repeated. "Now get to work. Not all of us have the luxury of taking long lunches in the middle of the day and some of us have to pick up the fucking slack." Maggie grinned and turned to leave. "And Maggie?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't...I'm not good at shit like this, but there's really no one better to have in your corner, to have looking out for you, than Mac," he told her.

"I know," Maggie assured him.

"Good," he nodded a couple of times, and then waved his hand in dismissal.

"Oh, and Will?"

"Yeah?"

"The Flock of Seagulls haircut was a really good look on you," she smirked at him, and his mouth dropped slightly.

"She _didn't,"_ Will hissed. And Maggie slipped out the door, grinning, to the sound of Will's bellow, " _MACKENZIE."_

 


End file.
